


Cold War

by Bixiayu



Series: omg I love making Harry sad [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cheating, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gwen and Harry are friends, Hurt Harry, I TORTURE HARRY CAUSE I LOVE HIM TOO MUCH, Language, Lots of Angst, M/M, Partner Betrayal, Past Child Abuse, Past Suicide Attempt, Peter is a Little Shit, Self Loathing, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Tears, many tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:35:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9502652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bixiayu/pseuds/Bixiayu
Summary: Harry Osborn's childhood had been the definition of rough. With the endless cycles of physical and emotional abuse, he wanted it all to end. That is, until he met a shy kid named Peter Parker.But as their relationship grew and they both matured, Harry received an unexpected surprise from Peter one morning that changed his life forever.





	1. Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literally_jams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literally_jams/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Happy Birthday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057635) by [Bixiayu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bixiayu/pseuds/Bixiayu). 



> I haven't written Parksborn in a million years, please forgive me smol beans I still love all of you. <3

_Harry's childhood had been far from uncomplicated_.

He was a six year old kid that had woken up, screaming himself awake from another nightmare. His small feet padded along the marble floors of his home, desperately searching for the only parent he had left. His father.

Once he finally laid eyes on the workaholic,  His tears fell across his face as he begged for his father's attention, reassurance, anything he could come close showing any signs of love.

But Norman pushed Harry away, barking orders at him to go back to sleep and to stop distracting him from his work.

But the young Osborn was scared of being so alone.

_"Please, Dad." His fragile voice begged._

Harry didn't notice how much a short temper his father had. Because in a blink of an eye, a grunt of rage escaped Norman's lips as a glass came flying towards Harry's head.

When the glass reached its destination, it shattered on Harry's forehead. Leaving a mess of blood and glass pieces on the floor.

The six year old didn't realize that _this_ moment was the one changed his future relationship with his father.

∞

The satisfaction Norman had when punishing his son became a daily habit. Anytime he did something Norman didn't approve of, a punch or a slap came his way. Along with verbal and emotional trauma.

"P-Pl-Please D-Dad I-I'm S-Sorry." Harry begged. His body was curled up onto the living room floor. He was in a ball formation with his hands cradled defensively around his head.

His chest aching with each boot that came smashing into his ribcage.

"Take it like a man!" Norman's thunderous voice boomed.

Kick after kick seemed to be the cycle of Harry's life. Anytime he did something wrong.

_The punishments seemed never ending._

Harry feared waking up the next morning and facing the same life of abuse again and again. He didn't want to open his eyes anymore. He just wanted to slowly fall asleep, drifting away into the essence of death.

Even at age ten, he knew that he could end it if he really wanted to. Old medication that his father used. It was so easy for him to reach it, it was so easy to choke down a hand full with a glass of water.

Sometimes when he lied awake at night, that cold comfort would sometimes put a smile on his face. But then it would quickly fade when he remembered how much a coward he was. He couldn't do it, he was too scared.

_But he wanted to, so badly._

∞

  
His father had gotten physical, again. He had barely dodged a beer bottle that came flying towards him. Harry had a small victory that more glass wouldn't leave scars on his face, but the victory was short lived. His father came stomping towards him with hate embedded in his eyes. The bubbling anger that lied in his chest, radiated out of his body, leaving Harry paralyzed. The older man's hands clenched into a large fist that turned his knuckles white.

The closer Norman came, the smaller Harry felt as the large figure began to loom over him. Harry's breath became lighter and lighter. _'Please don't hurt me anymore.' He prayed._

Harry took minuscule steps backwards until he was pressed flat against a wall. He wished he could just sink in and disappear. Never, ever come back.

A massive throbbing slap sent shockwaves through Harry's body as he fell to the floor. His hand went to his cheek, over circulating with blood. His tongue went to the inside of his mouth, where the red liquid began seeping out.

His insides felt like they were being punctured with blunt forces of pressure as Norman's foot came slamming into his abdomen.

If he lied on the floor, he knew that it wouldn't stop, he knew that _he_ wouldn't stop.

So his legs and had a mind of their own. His body stumbled forward as he tried his best to lift himself up.

_He had to leave._

He scrambled up towards his feet and towards his front door.

"Get back here, You-!"

Harry didn't hear what his father had to say. His legs were already out of his house with the door shut behind him.

∞

Harry didn't know where his legs were taking him, all he did was run. He ran far into the forest behind his house. The leaves left small cuts over his bare arms as the cold air was biting his cheeks. The air was thin, he was running out of breath.

 _He couldn't breathe_.

The tears that grew inside him were stuck in his throat, causing it to radiate with an itching burning pain.

Clouded eyes blocked his vision as his left foot stumbled. His body thrashed onto a mess a sharp sticks, causing his body to shoot up in pain.

He tried to bite his bottom lips to keep his sobs from coming out, but he realized that he didn't need to.

_He was deep into the woods._

_He was finally alone._

He let out several gut wrenching broken sobs as he cried into his body. He shook violently as he couldn't keep his tears at bay. He wanted to die, he just wanted the pain of his everyday existence to end.

He didn't know how he could continue living this way. Bruises hiding under his long sleeve shirts and the pillow that lied on his bed, filled up with silent tears.

He was,

_"The unwanted child."_

_"The bastard."_

_"Disappointment."_

Harry couldn't remember how long he was outside. All he knew was that when he cried himself to sleep, he had a burning desire to close his eyes and never open them again.

∞

Warm hands shook his shoulder, with such delicateness and compassion.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Cerulean eyes fluttered open. Seeing the figure startled Harry, he jumped back and scooted away. The other male in front of him, had small brown curls resting on his head and a pair of square classes on his face. He had both of his hands in front of his body, like he was approaching a wounded animal and tried to show that he meant no harm.

Harry stared wide-eyed. He couldn't say anything. He was embarrassed. Crying and falling asleep on the forest floor, and having someone he didn't know ask him if he was okay.. was something he wasn't used to.

_He didn't remember that last time someone asked him if he was okay._

"I'm Peter.." The other male said, taking small steps forward. "Who are you?"

Harry was still speechless. His gazed locked upwards towards the compassionate figure. _'Why is he being so nice to me?'_ He didn't understand, No one was nice to him, he knew no one really cared about him.

"I'm-I'm sorry if I startled you..I have a tendency to do that... I didn't mean to.. I was just walking through the woods and I found you here.. I mean.. I wasn't looking around for you or anything I just saw you.. but I wasn't watching you or anything.. I was just.. umm.. oh crap sorry I'm rambling.."

The young boys awkwardness cracked a small smile on Harry's face.

_Maybe he did care._

"I'm Harry... it's nice to meet you, Peter."

∞

For once in Harry's life. Things were finally going well. Wait, well was a major understatement.

_Harry was amazing._

His first and only friend, Peter, treated him like he meant the world to him. The good night texts, and especially the good morning texts, The video chats that lasted for hours, and the days where they would spend an infinite amount of time at Peter's house. Just cuddling together, watching movies, or binge playing series of video games.

Even the days where Harry would need a type of escape. The days where his father would beat him until he "Became more of a man." Or, until Harry's bruised and bloodied body was on the verge of shutting down.

_He would run over to the only escape he had._

_Peter._

He would stay in his bed for hours, just crying into his chest. Begging for an explanation on why his father treated him like this. Like he was a worthless, useless pest that deserved no signs of affection.

All Peter did was listen, run his hands through Harry's hair and remind him that he would be okay. Everything would work itself out, and that he just had to be strong, just for a little while longer. The gentle kisses that were laid along Harry's numerous bruises made him feel like eventually, everything would be alright.

∞

The late night cuddling happened more often. Before, it only occurred when Harry was upset with his father. But it transformed into a time when Harry just wanted to be held by Peter. And the small kisses laid on the bruises, found their way onto Harry's lips. Soft and delicate just like before.

_Neither of them minded at all, not really._

_It was relaxing._

For once in his life, all of Harry's sorrows seemed to fade away, just for a little while. He felt like he was actually appreciated by someone. His mother was dead, and his father absolutely loathed his guts, and he had no siblings to speak of.

_Peter was the only person he had that he could call his._

_Peter belonged to him._

_And he belonged to Peter._

 


	2. I Wasn't Enough, I'm Sorry

Years passed and as they grew older, it seemed like they were drifting apart farther and farther apart each day. It started when Peter started coming home late.

_Really late._

Whenever Harry asked what happened, all he got was a light hearted shrug. _"Work was busy."_

Harry didn't question it though. He trusted Peter. And he knew that trust is one of the basic foundations of a healthy telationship.

_And then the trust line started getting really blurry._

It was one morning, a night after they made love. Peter was dead asleep, but Harry was wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

All those years ago, their love felt magnetic. It sent electric shockwaves that shook Harry down to the core. The euphoric feeling would swell Harry's insides up with an undesirable amount of happiness that would leave a smile on his face for weeks that followed.

  
But this felt different.

It felt careless.

Peter didn't take his time like he used to. Using his fingertips to trace over every inch of Harry's bare skin. Gently, like Harry’s body was made out of glass that could easily shatter.

The other male’s hands were… indifferent. They had no emotion, no feeling.. they just held onto any piece of skin that Harry’s body possessed.

Peter had been distant lately.

Different than how he was before.

Everything between the two, just became less and less.

Before, Peter used to come home as soon as possible so Harry wouldn't be left in the house alone. They would cuddle, watch movies, or just go out. They used to talk about everything. Their worries, their fears.. things they wanted to accomplish together.. their future.

And then one day, everything just stopped.

Peter came home late, Harry called, worried sick.

No answer.

When the brown eyed brunette finally decided to show his face, he told Harry not to worry. He was fine, and work ran late.

Harry thought about it often, what it would be like without Peter in his life. The sheer thought of being alone again brought tears to his eyes. The overwhelming thought of being stuffed under a mass of sadness, anger, and frustration.. suffocating him until he could no longer breathe, and each attempt of a breath, taking up more energy than the last. Leaving his body paralyzed and unable to move.

A text message interrupted him from his thoughts.

His arm reached for the phone closest to him.

It was Peter's.

And there was a text from Gwen.

**“We’re still on for today, right?”**

He remembered her, from their childhood. Harry was home-schooled, but Peter and her went to school together. All the days Peter would mouth on about how perfect she was, and how he had a huge crush on her since he could remember made Harry slightly jealous.

He stopped after he and Harry started dating, but maybe that small spark of attraction never went away…

‘ _No_.’ Harry stopped his thoughts. ‘ _Peter isn't like that, he wouldn't do that to me.’_

But the blue eyed male reread the message, begging for an explanation. But his mind couldn't muster up one.

 _‘They're just friends.’_ He repeated to himself. _‘Nothing more.’_

But deep down, he had trouble believing that. What if Peter.. didn't want him anymore.. He was no longer good enough to satisfy his needs because he found someone.. better.

_More attractive_

_Smarter_

_Someone that was enough._

Before Harry knew it, his breathing started to stagger. He curled up onto his side and allowed the warm tears to slide down his face. Soaking his pillow to form big, dark puddles. He was going to be alone until the end of eternity because no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to be the perfect son or the perfect boyfriend, it wasn't enough.

 _He felt that he wasn't enough_.

“Har..?” A groggy voice whispered.

Harry didn't notice how hard he had been crying until he heard Peter stir behind him. A warm arm wrapped around the Osborn’s waist, pulling him closer to the bare chested figure behind him. Delicate kisses were laid on the back of Harry’s head, each coaxed in…. a sense of comfort… but not affection.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked.

Blue eyes blinked out the tears, and wiped them off of his face.

_‘He loves me, he does.’_

“Yeah..” Harry sniffled. “Just a nightmare, I'm fine.”

The brunette removed his arm and got out of bed. “Okay...” he muttered. “I’m heading out to work.”

‘ _Okay?’_

That surprised Harry.

Whenever Harry woke up crying, Peter wouldn't rest until Harry told him what was wrong. He would lay the sweetest kisses on Harry’s skin, whispering reassuring words on how he could trust him, and that everything would be alright. But now, it seemed like Peter could care less on how Harry was feeling.

_Like he had more important things on his mind._

-

Peter got ready in silence, ignoring Harry completely. But It wasn't a comfortable soothing silence like it used to be. It was thick tension that seemed to be sucking up all of the air in the room. It seemed like years had passed before Harry finally gathered the courage to say something, anything.

“Do you.. want to do something later this afternoon?” He asked.

Silence.

Harry turned to face the brown eyed brunette, who was packing his things up by the bedroom door.

“Pete?”

He saw brown eyes glance up for a millisecond, before turning their attention back to the item in his hands.

“Peter.”

“Hmmmm?” He hummed, not bothering to look up at Harry. Who’s gentle blue eyes were staring at him with so much love that overflew from his body. But It must've not of been enough because Peter stopped looking at him the same way a long while ago.

“Do you want to spend time together this evening?”

_‘Please...please..say yes.. if anything, at the least please remember today is our anniversary.’_

Peter hesitated, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I-I can't today, Har..”

_‘Work might end late’_

“Work might end late tonight, and my boss will get even more angrier than usual.”

“Oh.” Harry murmured. There was an obvious strain of hurt in his voice.

The brunette was out the door in a flash, most likely trying to avoid a follow up conversation. “I gotta go, See you later, Har.”

When Harry was alone, he let the words Peter said seep into his mind.

There was no “I love you” at the end like there used to be.

-

Eventually, Harry get ready for work himself. Oscorp didn't require too much attention, so he didn't get off of work that late.

Once he was ready to leave, he realized something.

Peter left his phone.

With the message from Gwen, still on the screen.

‘ _He wouldn't do that to me’_

_‘He isn't like that.’_

He cleared Peter’s lock screen and took his phone with him. He might as well give to him on his way to work.

-

One he entered the bugle, he was surprised as how big it looked on the inside. He would admit, it looked a little small and run down from the outside. There were numerous desks scattered everywhere with the constant sounds of printers shooting out newspapers. People were scampering back and forth, doing thousands of other things at the same time. It was strange.. Oscorp was more organized, people were more poised and quiet.

_‘It doesn't matter, I need to find Peter.’_

His eyes scanned around until the landed on a pretty brunette, sitting at a desk typing some things on a computer.

He walked up to her and smiled. “Hi, Do you know where I can find Peter’s office? I need to return something to him.”

She looked up at Harry the exact same way, “yep.” She grinned. “Keep on going straight and it's the last door to your left.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Harry followed her instructions and walked along the hall to reach the last door.

_He paused._

_Why was he scared to open the door?_

He shook his head and laughed at his own insecurity. It's just Peter, going through some photos, what could possibly be on the other side?

_Knock_

_Knock_

_No answer._

_‘Maybe he's not here, maybe he went out with Gwen and they're....’_

He internally told himself to shut up. Peter isn't like that, he would never do that. If there was a problem in their relationship he would tell him. They would talk about it, they would get through it.

“Peter?” Harry called. Knocking once more.

Silence.

Osborn decided it was best to just open the door, and leave Peter’s phone on his desk. Maybe he could call and check up on him later.

So he did open the door.

His heartbeat became non existent, as his ears made him feel like he was underwater, all of the sounds were unclear and muffled. All the doubts, the fears, and the insecure feelings came crashing down on him like an overwhelming sea suffocating him, making it impossible to breathe.

_Peter was there._

_But he wasn't alone._

_He was with Gwen._

They were both undressed, their clothes scattered lazily along the room. Everything that once consisted on the desk lied on the wooden floor. Broken glass cups, pencils , pens, even Spider-man photos.

Harry's mind went back to a time when He and Peter were making love, and all of the compassion that he once had, the emotion, and the warmth that Peter gave, dissapered.

_And now, Harry knew what it manifested into._

Gwen's naked body lied flat onto the wooden desk, her blonde hair illuminating the dull color scheme of Peter's office. The curly strands of gold were spread out but tangled in a way that still looked perfect. Her legs were spread wide open, which was where Peter was in between. Her red nails, were wrapped around Peter's bare back gripping tightly with emotion.

His hands were fondling her chest, with gradual motions that made her back arch with enough pleasure to fill hundreds of lifetimes. Her sparkling green eyes were closed shut, and her blood rushed up towards her face, making it as red as her lips. But not in a bad way of course, the thin ruby lines were stretched out into a grin. She was laughing, and there were tears of joy slipping out of her eyelids.

Peter wasn't crying though.

He laid large thrusts into Gwen's body, each shaking her body a little more each time. He let out a moan that was filled with such satisfaction and gratitude for the woman in front of him. Their bodies were both glistening with sweat the longer they stayed together. Peter looked so happy. His eyes were closed too, but if they were open, they would be filled with such passion, contempt, and appreciation for the moment that he was currently in. Harry only knew because that's the way he was looked at, a long long time ago.

Harry's body was still, his knuckles were turning white due to him gripping so tightly onto Peter’s phone. He wanted to chuck the phone at Peter’s head. Throw anything in his general direction, but he wouldn't, he couldn’t.

Everything was in pain.

His eyes were stinging as his vision started to blur. He had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. Each of his limbs felt disconnected from his body. His mind was telling him to place the phone on the counter and leave, never look back, take all of Peter’s things and toss it outside of their apartment.

But his heart said nothing, he couldn't feel it anymore.

Before, it was damaged and torn apart from his dad. All of the years of emotional abuse and child neglect for most of his life. When he met Peter, he was barely hanging on, his heart was being held together by a single thread.

Then, it gradually became whole again, piece by piece, thread by thread. He felt loved, he felt appreciated, and that's all he ever wanted.

But now, He saw Peter holding Gwen the same way he used to hold him. With an infinite amount of lust, gentle hands scurrying his body with such delicacy that left him craving the touch again the next day, it made his heart demolish. All of the threads were ripped out painfully, leaving two broken pieces in its wake. He no longer felt anything anymore. His chest was blank as his body felt numb.

Peter managed to form words, he was panting with such happiness and enjoyment towards her. _“I l-love you.” He breathed. “I've always loved you and only you..”_

Gwen lifted herself up and used her arms to wrap Peter into a warm and thoughtful embrace. Their faces were only millimeters apart. Her red lips and his moist ones grazed onto each others. “Say it again…” she whispered.

The brown eyed brunette used one of his arms to hold the side of her moist body and the other one to cup the side of her face, brushing the strands of hair out of it. Revealing his one true love, sweaty and out of breath she was, but still marvelous in Peter’s eyes.

 _“I love you.. Gwendolyn Stacy..”_ he breathed. His lips starting to caress hers. Not exactly a kiss, but almost there. Leaving her whimpering for more. _“You are the most important and special person in my life.. I love you… and only you..”_

And then the action that finally broke Harry, wasn't the words or the sex.

It was the kiss.

It was as if their lips were like a lock and key. Specifically crafted by the gods to fit perfectly together. Like her body was made for his, and he was made for her. Their lips in ideal synchronization, moving with the flow of the others. Not too fast or slow, the exact same rate. Her hands ran through Peter’s hair with such excitement, and Peter’s hands stroked her bare sides with a fond tenderness that made it look like Gwen was made out of porcelain and any amount of pressure would cause her to fall apart.

Harry just stood, watching and waiting. He couldn't say anything, he couldn’t do anything. The scene lying in front of his eyes were too much.

Everything was so overwhelming.

And then it happened.

After god knows how long of him idly standing there. Gwen's eyes peeked open and made their way towards Harry's figure. They widened in fear as she gently nudged Peter’s body away. His face was buried deep into her neck, laying dozens of deep kisses there.

“Peter..” she whispered, her voice trembling with a sudden blurt of anxiety. The complete opposite of the carefree feeling from before.

The brunette looked up and tried to lay small kisses on her face, but she pushed his face away, turning her head towards Harry.

And when Peter looked at Harry, dead in the eye. The look on his face screamed of the  absence of intimacy he gave to Gwen. It transformed into a self-loathing feeling that drained the color from his entire body.

“H-Harry…” Peter stuttered.

It was silent in the room for a while. The pair was staring right at Harry with a feeling a guilt that seemed more like pity.

“W-What are you..umm.. doing here?” Peter asked.

Harry’s lips were sealed. He couldn't bring himself to form any type of words. What could he say anyway?

All he did was bite the bottom of his lip to keep it from trembling. He took hesitant steps closer towards them, fiddling the phone in his hands. He placed it on the edge of the table and glanced up at Peter and Gwen. His eyes wanted to be angry, but the bright blue was watered down with the tears attempting to fall out. His eyes bounced from the both of them.

“S-Sorry… for interrupting…” He murmured quietly.

Then he turned and walked towards the door, before Peter's voice _almost_ stopped him in his tracks.

“Harry wait, please.”

But he didn't wait. He couldn't stand to be in the presence of them. His exboyfriend and someone he once called his friend.

He didn't bother pausing, he made his way towards the door, and opened it as silently as he closed it.

-

Harry ditched work and slowly walked home.

Once he reached the inside.

All hell broke loose.

Luckily he made it to the bed before he collapsed. He let all of the emotions over flowing his subconscious pour out. His whole body was trembling as monstrous sobs came from his lips. He didn't know how long he was crying, but he felt like a jackhammer was pounding into the side of his head. There were so many tears that the left side of his face was soaked. His throat was filled with them as he couldn't breathe for a couple moments. But he didn't care about that.

_No one would care if he died, not really._

The desolation that his body had, resided inside of his heart.

When he was with Peter, his heart was stitched back together. None of the demons could leave. They were trapped inside. And anytime they tried to escape, Peter's gentle touch and soothing words would keep them at bay.

But there were no more touches and no more stitches.

The little demons were free to roam around Harry's body. And the first place they went to, was his mind.

They made their homes there, not planning to go away, rapidly dividing to colonize and reside deep inside of him for a long time.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw them. Together. Their lips stuck together, moving perfectly. Their pleasurable moans sent waves of envy throughout Harry’s body. He was angry, burned down to the core with a fiery rage that made him wonder what he did wrong.

But the thought of his inability to be loved, turned the frustration into sorrow. There was no need to get angry with Peter or Gwen, it wasn't their fault that they were made for one another. They weren't the problem.

_Harry felt that he was._

_He just wasn't good enough._

_He didn't satisfy all of Peter’s needs._

_He couldn't give him a family, or a future._

_All he did was emotionally drain Peter, sucking up his chances of a real life. A happy one._

_Without Harry in it._

The rejection he received from his father manifested itself into a strong, dark figure that lurked behind Harry. Ready to swallow any sliver of joy he possessed. Snuffing his small light out, trapping him inside of a dim, cold, and lonely corner where the only company he had were the terrible, defeating voices inside of his head.

He shot open his tear consumed eyes and reached over for something that he thought could comfort him.

Peter’s pillow.

He held it close to his chest and let the feeling of being loved, by _him_ , swell him up with a distant joy. When he felt like his body belonged to him, how he felt like he had a life that was worth living. Someone to look forward to when he woke up and fell asleep. And someone that treated him like he was the only thing that mattered.

When he and Peter were happy together. The late night cuddles and the numerous amount of dates. The warm touches of love laid over his skin, displaying how fragile Harry was. When their love was actually meaningful.

_When they meant the world to one another._

_When they belonged to one another._

Harry took a deep breath and let the scent of the pillow seep into his nostrils, causing more tears to pour out. It hurt him to think about the life he once had.

_What once was, what is, and what will never be._

_“I love you.. Peter Benjamin Parker..”_ he whispered, tightening the pillow in his arms. Like he was holding Peter close to his body, just like before. A hold filled with the same amount of affection that their relationship once possessed, mixed in with a sense of grief, as if this was the last embrace that they would share. _“You are the most important and special person in my life… I love you.. and only you..”_


	3. I Don't Love You

_"Hey Harry.... it's me, Peter." The voice said. "I haven't seen or heard from you in weeks... please call me back to let me know you're alright. I miss you a lot... I can't get you out of my head."_

* * *

_  
_ _  
_ It took most people three weeks to get over a breakup.  
  
It took the extremely lucky ones only three days.  
  
Maybe not even completely over it, but able to resume to their daily lives and _try_ to move on.  
  
_It had been three months._ _  
  
_

Ninety two days of a lonesome agony that seeped into Harry's bones, infecting him with it’s clutches of a desolating vulnerability that was _constantly_ sucking the life out of him, leaving him unable to move.

 

_The silence of his home made everything worse._

 

Before, He kept in touch with his assistant, Felisha. She let him know what projects and meetings the he had coming up, but knowing the he wouldn't show up to any of them or even complete them.

 

She also told him that if he needed anyone to talk to, she would always be there. If he wanted her to come over with pizza and ice cream so they could talk about anything else besides Peter, or if they wanted to egg Gwen Stacy’s house and then vandalize it with toilet paper rolls, she would only be a phone call away.

 

But Harry declined.

 

The everyday pain of him _existing_ became too overwhelming.  
  
Eventually, he was unable to even return any of Felisha’s calls. He knew that he was hurting her, and he didn't mean to. At this point, he couldnt remember the last time he had ever talked to another human being. He was cocooned under his blankets for most of the day.

 

_Laying on the side that Peter used to sleep on._

 

He rarely moved, all he did was cry. The energy and life he once possessed was sucked out of him. His whole body and soul ached with the all too familiar feelings from his childhood.  
  
_Loneliness and sadness._ _  
_  
Only two sounds came from Harry's body. His pitiful cries and his illegible sobs. Peter’s pillow was always glued to his chest, being held tightly inside of Harry’s weak grasp. He often drowned the pillow with his tears, masking up the scent it once contained. The sobs rattled his entire body, leaving his head pounding and chest hitching.  
  
_But he didn't care._ _  
_ _  
_ _He just wanted to hold Peter again._ _  
_  
As he let his sorrows and flood the pillow, words would muddle through his lips. They subconsciously left and one he started, he couldn't stop. He had lost control of his body, it didn't belong it him anymore.

 

_He felt like a slave to his own emotions._

_  
_ ________________________________ _  
_ _"P-Peter... please... come back to me..."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"I-I'm so... sorry."_ _  
_ _  
_ _"I wasn't enough... please forgive me..."_ _  
_ _____________________________  
  
And then, eventually Harry was unable to cry.  
  
He couldn't bring himself to do it anymore.  
  
He would hold the pillow, clutching it to his chest in silence as he stared at one of the white walls or a photo of him and Peter he had resting on the night stand.  
  
Harry remembered that day perfectly.  
  
It was his 18th birthday. He didn't want to do anything too special, so they went out to a park. Harry was snuggled into Peter's chest as the brunette’s lips were on his forehead, giving a small kiss.  
  
The picture used to bring a smile on Harry's face.  
  
Then the smile turned into tears.  
  
And soon it became nothing. Just a gnawing pain that was slowly rotting his core like a bruised apple. All off the hate he had buried inside of him was killing him from the inside out, he could _feel_ it.

 

Deep down, he knew that if this was the way he was now, it was only going to get worse later on.

 

 _It always did._  
  
~*~  
  
Harry's blue eyes glanced at the clock on his phone. A deep sigh escaped his lips when he realized that he had been awake for nearly twenty hours. It had been difficult to stay asleep lately.  
  
His father's presence would always find his way back into his dreams. The repeated blows to his torso, the blunt hits across his face, or the hands choking him would have Harry crying and jerking in his sleep.  
________________  
_"The world is going to wipe it’s dirty hands all over you!"_

 _“I’m teaching you how to be a real man.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _"You're too soft! I can't believe I ended up raising such an wimpish little bitch for a son."_ _  
_ __________________  
  
Peter used to be there to help keep the nightmares away.  
  
Any time Harry was upset, a long protective arm would be wrapped around his waist, giving him the aura of protection, reminding him that with Peter by his side everything would be alright. Soft kisses were laid on his face and neck as his lovers touches would find a way to make the tears disappear.

  
But he was gone.  
  
When Harry woke up gasping for air, he was in complete darkness. His body was iced over with a depressing embrace when he realized how alone and vulnerable he really was. The bed that could fit two people, only had one in it. The one person he trusted with everything in him to protect him, left. Leaving only a damaged human being in it’s wake. The two pillows meant for two people only had a single person hugging one to their chest each and every night for a source of comfort.  
  
And the love once in two hearts, only remained in one.  
  
After one of his nightmares, his first instinct was to turn on the lights and hug the pillow towards his chest.

He felt so stupid and childish while doing it, but it was like Peter was there with him. Protecting him just like he did before.

  
Harry stared at the blank walls of his bedroom. He used to enjoy looking out the window, it was interesting to observe the more detailed and complex lives that other people lived. But when Peter left, the only thing that swarmed Harry’s mind were the memories that were made by _him_ . He remembered when Peter used to come through the window all the time after his endeavors as Spider-Man. He limped through the opening with his suit that was torn and bloodied revealing gut wrenching injures underneath. Harry was there to nurse up all of his wounds. He would stitch up every cut, apply alcohol to every deep laceration, and place an ice pack on every bruise Peter had outlining his body. He even shuddered when he had to fix Peter's dislocated shoulder and hip.  
_  
_ _Twice._  
  
The window had too many old memories that Harry wished he could forget, but wasn't fortunate enough to.  
  
So now he stared at the wall most of the time. Since it was blank, he hoped that one day his mind could be too.

  
_Just for a couple seconds._ _  
_  
**_BANG_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_BANG_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_BANG_ ** **_  
_ **  
Harry jolted upwards from his lying position on his bed. He swiftly turned his head towards the direction that he heard the noise from.  
  
His front door.  
  
_'Is it Peter?'_ _  
_  
He hadn't spoken to _him_ since he walked in on him with Gwen months ago. Harry’s phone was flooded with voicemails and he had a bunch of dead flowers currently rotting in his kitchen. Peter had been calling and texting, but Harry didn’t respond to anything.

 

How could he?  
  
How could he look Peter one day in the eyes and pretend that everything was okay?  
  
"Harry, Open up!" The voice yelled on the other side, continuing to bang on the door. "I know you're home!"  
  
_That sure as hell wasn't Peter's voice._ _  
_  
He slowly get out of bed, noticing the depressing body mark he had left on his mattress.

 

Small steps made their way to the door and unlocked it, slowly pulling it open.  
  
He internally grimaced when he realized who it was.  
_  
_ _Donald Menken_  
  
Harry rose an eyebrow, staring at the old man's angrier features. "Menken?" He asked. "Why are _you_ here?"  
  
The older man shoved a while prescription bag in front of Harry’s body, holding it for him to take. Menken shifted his weight angrily as he was staring down at him. "You need to get back to work."  
  
_'Oh'_  
  
"You can't wallow inside of your own sadness forever." He continued. "Yeah yeah, I heard. Lover boy broke your heart, boo hoo. But there's work that still need to be done at Oscorp. Can't you put your emotions aside for one day so you can focus on what's important?"  
  
"You came to pep talk me?" Harry questioned. Menken actually coming to make him feel better seemed completely impossible. It was obvious that older man hated his guts. Ever since Harry's father made him the CEO, it had been non stop jealousy from Menken.  
  
"No." Menken said swiftly. "I came to give you this."  
  
A whole bag was placed into Harry's hands forcefully. He eyed it skeptically before opening it.  
  
_'This was too far.'_ _  
_  
_ANTIDEPRESSANT_ _  
_ _  
__DULOXETINE_ _  
_ _  
__30 mg_ _  
_ _  
__50 tablets_ _  
_ _  
_ "I'm not depressed." Harry stated. He really wasn't. He was just trying to get through a bad break up, that's all. Maybe he was a little bit suicidal, but he has been like that since he was ten. The last time he had tried anything was when he was twelve. Unfortunately, he still had the slit marks on his thighs to prove it.

  
He may not of been sleeping well either. Maybe four hours if he was lucky enough. But he had been like that for a while. It wasn't because of depression, it was the nightmares.  
  
_Definitely_  
  
He also lost interest in things he used to do because he realized that he wasn't that good at them. His paintings and drawings of Peter were terrible anyway.

 _ ~~He knew he wasn't talented. He wasn't perfect, beautiful, or smart like Gwen Stacy.~~ _  
  
"Yes, you are." Menken repeated. "No one has seen you in months. You need to get your overdue work done."  
  
"I can do it from home."  
  
"No." The older man said. "You're coming to Oscorp today."  
  
"I would but..." Harry trailed off, trying to find any excuse not to go. He turned towards the window and heard the small pitter of the water hitting it. "It's rainy. And it's cold."  
  
Menken narrowed his eyes. "That's why jackets exist, genius."  
  
"I through your father raised you to be stronger than this."  
  
"Do _not_ speak of my father." Harry gritted. He could take the constant harassment from him on how he was too soft, weak, or irresponsible. Fine, he had been called worse things before.  
  
But he never wanted to be reminded of his father's existence. His figure looming over him in his dreams and beating him until he was choking on his own blood was more than enough _‘father and son bonding’_ for a lifetime or two.  
  
"Right." Menken said, turning his heels. "Sore spot."  
  
~*~  
Oscorp was exactly the same way that Harry remembered it to be.  
  
Quiet, calm, but busy all at the same time.  
  
Harry didn't see what the hell Menken was talking about, everything was still the same as when he left.  
  
_No one needed him._ _  
_ _  
_ _Not really._ _  
_ _  
_ Harry kept his head down as he made his way towards the elevator. Maybe if he made it in time, he could avoid Felisha. He just really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. He wanted to hide inside of his office forever.  
  
No one would notice if he was gone anyway.  
  
His eyes were shut as he entered the elevator. It would be hard adjusting back to his _'normal'_ life. He had been alone most of his childhood, and Peter was the old this that kept him going. He was the only one that made him feel like he actually mattered.  
  
But now he was gone.  
  
A shadow of Harry's self loathing followed him around constantly. It reminded him that he wasn't good enough, smart enough, or attractive enough.  
  
He just wasn't enough.  
  
"Is that you, Harry?" A voice behind him called.  
  
It sounded familiar and feminine.  
  
He turned around hesitantly, afraid to see who it was.  
  
His whole world went dead silent as he saw the streaks of blonde hair that stopped in slight curls at her shoulders, the red lip stick that was perfect on her face, and real clothes covering her body. Not Peter on top of her.

 _~~Fondling her chest~~   _ _  
_  
_Gwen Stacy._ _  
_  
"It's great to see you..."  When she locked eyes with him, they widened in a slight fear. Her voice shook nervously as she began fiddling with the objects she had in her hand. "We all... missed you here at Oscorp."  
  
_'No you didn't.'_  
  
"Thanks..." He said, looking away. Oh god, this was so embarrassing. Harry thought that she must be internally gloating at his misery right now. She slept with his boyfriend and was trying to smile at him and be friendly. But it was all a facade, it had to be. The only reason why she was pretending to be nice was because she wanted something.

 

 _She must of wanted to see Harry suffer._ _  
_  
"How are you?" She asked, he could tell that she took a step closer towards him. "You look... great."  
_  
_ _'Don't lie to me.'_ _  
_  
Harry knew that he looked like absolute hell. He hadn't had a haircut in months so the bangs on the left side of his face grew, almost covering his eye completely. He was pretty sure the dark circles under his eyes had their own dark circles. And he knew he was naturally pale, but no sunlight for three months made his complexion even worse.  
  
"Thank you." He simply said, keeping his eyes on the screen of the elevator. His floor was only a couple more seconds away, thank god.  
  
It was silent between them before Gwen spoke up again. "Look, i’ll cut the crap."  
  
"I'm sorry for what I did. I'll understand if you hate me because... I hate me too. You deserve so much better, and I'm so so sorry."  
  
"I don't know if you'll ever forgive me, but I just wanted to apologize."  
  
Harry turned his attention back towards her, staring into her saddened green eyes. He was going to ask her the question eating away for months, the question the left him lying awake at night. The thought that sometimes left tears in his eyes or a tiny rage that bubbled inside of his chest.  
  
"Okay..." Harry whispered. "I'll forgive you if you answer my question."  
  
She nodded obediently, wiping the tears from her eyes.  
  
_"Did you know_?"

_The words stung his battered heart when they came off of his tongue._

  
"W-What?" She asked. "Did I know what?"  
  
Harry let a sigh escape his lips as he turned his whole body to face Gwen. "Did you know?" He asked again, his voice breaking more with each second that passed.

 

_Each moment spent in silence felt like an eternity._

  
He saw the green eyes become dull as she started blinking away the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes. Her ruby red lips began to tremble violently as a sniffle escaped her body.  
  
" _Yes_ ." She whispered quietly. " _I-I did know..._ "  
  
_Ding_  
  
Harry turned away as he saw the elevator doors open to his destination.  
  
He inhaled shakily as he didn't have enough courage to look Gwen Stacy in the eyes again.

 

 _How could he?_ _  
_  
"Consider yourself forgiven." He murmured, bitterly. He stepped out of the elevator without looking back. Of Course she knew, _everyone_ knew.

 

 _But she obviously didn't even care._ _  
_  
"Harry, I'm sor-"  
  
The elevator door closed before she could finish her sentence.  
  
Harry didn't care. He wasn't going to cry, not today.  
_  
_ _Peter wasn't his to cry for anymore._ _  
_ _  
_ _He belonged to Gwen._ _  
_  
~*~  
  
Harry had been sitting at his desk for hours, going over some summaries about a bunch of meetings that he had missed. He didn’t care, not really. It’s not like he could focus on it.

  
He wasn't surprised that Gwen knew that he and Peter were together when _they_ slept together. Peter must of told her about him. They've known each other since high school, but Harry only talked to her a couple times before. It was during their teenage years when Harry would come over and she would already be at his house. Harry didn't mind, they were all friends.  
  
_Past tense. Were._ _  
_ _  
_ _He didn't know what the hell they were now._ _  
_  
"You can't go in there, he's busy!"  
  
_'Felisha?'_  
  
Harry stood up from his desk, awaiting the visitors whose footsteps were quickly approaching his office.  
  
When he saw who it was, all hell broke loose inside of his mind.  
  
His chest stopped inhaling and exhaling as a freezing chill seeped his body over, leaving him unable to move. Everything he had ever wanted to say was at the tip of his tongue, unable to come out. Every happy memory that he once had with _him_ , flooded his brain.  
  
_It didn't put a smile on his face like it used to._ _  
_ _  
_ _It filled his eyes up with tears._ _  
_  
Parker was standing a couple steps in front of the door with an angered Felisha by his side.  
  
"Harry..." Peter whispered. His eyes seemed slightly bloodshot as he had dark circles under his eyes too. His hair was _supposed_ to be a complete mess because Harry had seen Peter’s bed head all the time.

 

The brunette’s fluffy hair still looked perfect, as always.

 

He had a wrinkled shirt that had the buttons put into the incorrect holes. His black backpack was slung lazily over his right shoulder, weighed down by all of his college textbooks.  
  
"I tried to stop him in the lobby." Felisha said, pulling out her phone."I can call security."  
  
"No." Harry blurted. That had been the first word he had spoken since they walked in. He internally kicked himself for how quickly he said it too.  
  
"Are you sure?" She asked, slowly pulling her phone away from her ear.  
  
Harry nodded. "It's okay, but thank you."  
  
"Call me if you need anything." Felisha said. She glared up at Peter briefly before turning her heels and walking out the door, closing it silently behind her.  
  
_They were alone._ _  
_  
Even after all this time, Harry still had every detail of Peter's body memorized. Parker's fluffy brown hair was an array of different shades of brown in the light. There was the darker browns in the back that trailed up to the front of his head, revealing the much lighter colors.  
  
Peter's fair skin was soft and perfect. The only thing on his face were sometimes tiny scars that healed fairly quickly, or the tiny birthmarks that trailed down his neck and his left arm.  
  
_Harry knew because he loved kissing them._ _  
_ _  
_ And under the loose wrinkled clothes that Peter wore was his _godly_ body. How Harry's weak and limp hands would hold onto Peter's muscular hips when they were making love, or how his boyfriends large arms would hold him at night, keeping him warm.  
  
Making him feel safe and loved.  
  
"H-How are you?" Peter asked, breaking the silence. His voice quaked with uncertainty as he  ran his hands through his hair.

  
Harry sighed, closing his eyes. "I'm fine, Peter." He bit his tongue to keep his anger from pouring out of him. He hated that there were so many things that he wanted to say, but couldn't. All of the conversations he had in his head, all of the questions he wanted to ask, vanished. When he saw Peter's face. It brought too many memories back of all the things his brain wanted to forget, but his heart couldn't bare to.  
  
"That's good..." He exhaled. "I'm so happy to hear that... I've been calling you and leaving messages... did you get-"  
  
Harry's cold voice interrupted Peter's small talk. In all honesty, he didn't know why he didn't let Felisha take Peter out. Why the hell did he think that his was a good idea? He could already feel the stings in his throat as his tears threatened to show themselves. "Why are you here?" He asked.  
  
  
Peter dropped his arms and placed them into his pockets. "Harry please listen..." He breathed. He was approaching him with slow steps like he was a wounded animal. "I still love you so so much. We're partners, remember? I'm... I'm... not going to leave you."  
  
"But..." Harry began, his voice came out as a low and broken whisper. "You already did."  
  
"It was an accident..." Parker said. "A stupid... stupid accident. It didn't mean anything."  
  
"Really?" Harry asked.  
  
_‘Bullshit_ .’  
  
He took a deep breath in, trying his best to keep his voice as steady as possible. The words that he was about to say had been on his mind for months. They were embedded into his brain and stitched into his eye lids. "I-I-I love you...Gwen Stacy.." Harry stuttered out, his chest already starting to hitch with the desolation he had buried inside. "You are the most important and special person in my life.. I love you... and only you.."  
  
"Do you remember that, Peter?" His voice broke. The tears were already slipping down his eyes, staining his cheeks. "Because I do..."  
  
Peter started blinking his own tears away as he stared out of the window to his left. He shook his head, sniffling. "This is really hard to understand... we have to talk."  
  
Harry shook his head, walking towards his desk. He quickly put all of his papers inside of their folders so he could shove them inside of one of the drawers. This was a bad idea. Wait, understatement, one of the worst decisions he has ever made. How in the hell did he think that he was strong enough to have a simple conversation with Peter without breaking down in tears?  
  
_His father was right, he was weak._ _  
_  
"Harry." Peter repeated.  
  
"We are talking, aren't we?" He said tearfully. Using one of his hands to wipe his eyes. "Now please, just shut up."  
  
"I'm trying to communicate... I'm trying to get through to you." Peter said.  
  
"You have _no_ right to say that to me." Harry gritted through his teeth. _'Trying to get through?'_ Peter started ignoring him for months, disappearing at night for god knows long and treating him like he was a worthless piece of garbage.  
  
Peter brought his hand to his temple and let out a heavy sigh. "I'll give you the truth, alright?"  
  
"You know that I've always had feelings for Gwen... and I thought that with enough effort I could change it, I could change myself. But I just can't."  
  
"Some nights... I would go to places where we used to go so I could... create the feelings I thought I had for you... anything to convince myself that I was making the right choice."  
  
"But... nothing ever changed in the way that I wanted it to... please just understand that I'm doing the best I can-"  
  
"No." Harry interrupted. "I don't like the sound of this." Was everything a giant lie? Everything they thought they had together, every moment spent was fake?  
  
It was a one sided commitment?  
  
"I'm leaving." Harry murmured, shoving the papers inside of random folders. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to clean up his desk so he could leave the room that was suffocating him.

 

 _It was getting hard to breathe._  
  
He rushed to get away from his desk and towards the door. How could he possibly believe that he would keep it together only for five minutes? When he looked into Peter's brown doe eyes, when he looked at _him_ , it reminded Harry of all the things he would never have.

 

 _What is, what was, and what will never be_  
  
Harry's footsteps were approaching the closed door past Peter, but a strong hand gripped his arm. It completely stopped him in his tracks as he jerked backwards. The grip was tighter than Harry ever thought it would be, and if he was being honest with himself, it hurt.  
  
_Peter's grip on his arm hurt._ _  
_ _  
_ "Don't touch me." Harry gritted through his teeth, trying to free himself from Peter's grip.  
  
"Harry please listen to me." Peter begged.

  _"I-I don't have any sexual feelings for you... and I don't... I don't think I ever did."_

  
He ripped his arm out of Peter's grasp and stared up at him. The tears were non stop, the dull ache that was in his heart, exploded outwards, affecting all of his limbs. In moments like this, he wished he would go completely numb.  
  
_From being beaten until he couldn't breathe by his father, this was the worst amount of pain._ _  
_ _  
_ _This hurt more than anything he had ever experienced._  
  
"I-I loved you..." Harry whispered, taking steps away from Peter.  
  
"I fucking loved you!" His voice rose. And then it dropped into a full whisper, breaking with each word that left his mouth. "W-With everything I had... you selfish ass... Why couldn't... why didn't you just tell me?"  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Harry..." Peter cried. He was shaking his head, pinching the corners of his eyes with one of his hands. He was trying his best to keep the tears in, but it wasn’t working. They were trailing down his fingers, slipping down his forearm. "I didn't want to hurt you... I just-"  
  
"Are you expecting me to say 'I forgive you?', is that what you want to hear?"  
  
"How the hell could I?"  
  
"I still love you Harry..." Peter began. "But Gwen... she is... it's hard for me to explain how I feel about her. When I look at her and then I think about you I-"  
  
" _Don't_ ," Harry began. " _Don't_ compare me to her."

 

 _“I am not Gwen Stacy”_ _  
_  
"You don't understand how hard it is Harry... haven’t you thought about it? One day, you’re going to be too busy for me. I mean… you run a company at age _twenty…_ and i’m… i’m just a regular guy in college… you’re an elite… you’re famous…” Peter whispered. The hurt radiated in his chest when the thoughts that kept him awake came into his mind.

 

_Harry was better than him._

 

_He was too good for him._

  
"Don't you _dare_ , think that there is anything in the past, present, or future that I would put in front of you!"

 _Peter_ _was, and will always be, Harry's first priority._

_No matter what._

  
"I loved you with everything I had…” Harry whispered. “Every last bit... Why wasn't that enough?"  
  
Peter looked down at his shoes, his tears making tiny drops on his wrinkled shirt. "I-I'm so sorry... I know I failed you... I failed you."  
  
"Loving someone and managing to fail them?" Harry scoffed, turning away. "I thought you of all people were excluded from that category..."  
  
"You can love just fine..." He whispered. "But I guess you... couldn't love me."  
  
Peter took steps closer to Harry, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as gently as possible. "But...I do." He said.  
  
Harry looked up at him with stinging eyes and a trembling bottom lip. "Y-You can't even say it..." It had made sense. The ‘I love you’ between the two had become less frequent with each passing day. And then, Peter had stopped saying it all together.  
  
The brunette looked away for a couple seconds, gazing out of the large window. He bit his bottom lip while taking a deep inhale in before turning towards Harry. "I..." He began. "I- I love you."  
  
A heated anger bubbled inside of Harry’s chest when he saw how Peter forced himself to say it. It physically hurt him to say those words directed to Harry.

 

_It didn't look like it hurt when he was saying it to Gwen._

 

"Don't touch me Peter.” Harry’s voice lowered. He wanted hide under his blankets and never come out. He didn't mind staying inside of his house for the rest of his life anyway, no one would miss him.

 

_No one wanted him anyway._

 

“Let go of me.”  
  
"No, Harry... please I-" Peter tried.  
  
Harry began to squirm under Peter’s grip. "Let go of me or I'm going to scream." He gritted through his teeth. He wasn't going to stand here and listen to Peter’s lies any longer. The thought that made him feel even worse about himself was that the _silence_ of his home was better than this.

 

_Because the silence was real. It told him the truth about his situation._

 

_Peter, The one he loved and cherished, did leave him for another._

 

_But what he was experiencing, In his office, was was all fake._

 

 _Peter was lying to make him feel better, didn't love him. He never did, and he never will._ _  
_ _  
_ Peter's grip loosened as Harry turned his head towards his shoes. He couldn't bare to ever look up at _him_ . Because his beautiful brown eyes would engulf Harry’s heart which would make him want to stay and listen. He could tell that Peter was trying to pull Harry back into _him_ and it was so hard to resist. Harry was trying his best to push him away, but he would find a way to push too far and fall right back into Peter’s clutches again. And from experience, he knew that it would be another downwards spiral.

 

 _Harry was better off alone, that way no one could ever hurt him again._ _  
_  
_He opened the door as silently as Felisha closed it, and left._

 

_He left._

 

The last sound he heard, was Peter's fractured voice behind him. 

  
  
_"I hope you can forgive me one day… Just please remember…”_

 

_“I still love you."_

 

_“Always and forever.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know anymore


	4. Blue

Harry and Peter rarely talked after that.   
  
Eventually, Peter stopped calling and leaving him voicemails.   
  
Harry pretended like it didn't hurt him.   
  


_~~On the days where he felt all alone, It was nice hearing his voice.~~   _ _   
_   
And the text messages that seemed to come in every other day, only came on holidays.   
  
Harry texted back a simple  _ "Thanks, you too."  _ And the conversation ended there.    
  
Five years was a long time, but it felt a lot shorter in his head.   
  
Within those years he found out that Peter and Gwen were getting married.   
  
And Harry got an invitation in the mail to celebrate with them.   
  
To make it even better, he had his seat on the groom's side with the honor of giving Peter's " _ Best man _ " speech.   
  
Harry called Felisha over.

 

He didn't remember how long he cried as she tried to shush him. Holding him tight and letting him know that he was okay.

 

_ They threw the invitation in the fireplace later that evening.  _   
  
After that, his world fell silent. Oscorp kept him busy as he gradually increased his work hours.

 

And Peter was living happily ever after with Gwen.   
  
_ Life went on. _ _   
_   
Eventually, Peter became a distant thought. He was constantly on his mind, but it was repressed. It made it easier to smile and be happy again. It made the pain of life not seem never ending.   
  
He enjoyed it. Felisha was by his side as his best friend that kept him company. She was his shoulder to cry on when the memories came back, reminding him that he one day, everything would get better. And that she would be by his side no matter what. 

  
Some nights, she was the one that came to his house with pizza and ice cream and as they binge watched Netflix until they passed out on his couch.   
  
It was nice.   
  
_ Life went on. _ _   
_   
**∞**   
  
_ There was soft knocking on his front door. _ _   
_   
Harry's hazy eyes opened, filled to the maximum with an overwhelming sleepiness. He hadn't slept at all the night before. For once, it wasn't because of the nightmares. He hadn't had them in a while.

 

It was because Felisha came over. They made a bet on who would fall asleep first while they watched some old movies.

 

Neither of them fell asleep.   
  
Unfortunately, they had work the next day.   
  


And here Harry was,  _ attempting _ to get a good night's sleep.   
  
_ Knock _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Knock _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Knock  _ _   
_   
"Just go away..." Harry mumbled into his pillow.   
  
But the knocking continued.   
  
He groaned as he checked the time. He only got about three out of eight hours. Why couldn’t the person at the door just come back some other time? Why did they have to come in the middle of the night? Or, if he were being honest with himself, the early morning.  

 

He huffed as he pulled his warm blankets off of him. He made slow and sleepy steps towards the front door, trying his best not to trip over any furniture. Harry was thankful he left the light on. It was a habit just incase he got scared during the night.

 

It was childish, but it made him feel safe.   
  
"Hello?" He yawned, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 

  
_ "H-Harry..." _ _   
_   
He would recognize  _ that _ voice anywhere.   
  
Harry's eyes blinked rapidly, forcing them open even though thousand of pounds were weighing them down. Everything he thought he had tucked away into a dusty corner of his own mind immediately came back when he saw him again.   
  
_ Peter Benjamin Parker _   
  
But this was not how he ever expected to see him again.   
  
Instead of long limbs, brown fluff, and doe eyes, he got something else.   
  
Peter was in a bleeding Spider-Man suit. There were massive cuts and slashes that trailed in every direction on his arms and legs that stained the suit to an even darker shade of red. His face mask was torn. One of the eye pieces was gone along with some of the fabric around it, revealing bruised and scratched flesh that the brunette once called his face. Pieces of his hair were sticking together with the crimson liquid that drenched the majority of his head. There was a puddle of blood from where Peter was standing, practically coating the ground with his blood. 

  
Harry's eyes widened in an absolute shock as he took a glance at him. He brought his hands and covered his mouth to keep himself from screaming. Phantom pain shot through him the longer he stared at the wounds. It terrified his core to look at him. It was as if Peter went to hell and  _ barely _ escaped. 

  
_ "P-Pete...?"  _ He said as his voice trembled. He was too frightened to step any closer or even touch Peter’s battered body.

  
The bloody and sweaty body mumbled incoherent words before it wobbled on both feet for a couple seconds and began tumbling forward.   
  
Harry barely had enough strength to catch Peter's gigantic body topping over his. His body almost slipped out of his small hands because of the blood that coated his skin. 

 

He almost fell on the ground with him before he used the tiny strength he had left to drag Peter's body into one of his large bathtubs. The blood started trailing on the floor of his home, following them into the large bathroom.   
  
His heart pumped his anxiety filled blood throughout his body. It was getting much harder to inhale and exhale. It was as if his chest was being crushed by a suffocating pressure that was leaving him light headed. 

 

_ Harry couldn't tell if he was about to die or if he was going to faint.  _

  
He was dragging his ex boyfriend's nightmarish body into his bathtub. It was evident that he lost too much blood from whatever the hell he was doing beforehand. Harry was just internally praying that Peter wouldn’t go into shock soon. The image and the sounds of watching Peter choke on his own blood was grueling as it made Harry’s heart bleed. They bounced off of the walls of his home, echoing through every room, removing the peaceful and calm silence from before. Replacing it with the pained sounds of tortured souls in hell.  

 

He knew he should hate Peter. Cheating is wrong, it's unforgivable.  It made Harry feel like he was worthless, like he deserved to have this happen to him. He locked himself away and blamed himself for months while Felisha was trying to convince him that none of this was his fault. 

 

And when he thought that he was finally doing okay again, he got that wedding invitation in the mail.

 

_ He really should loathe that fucking douche. _

_   
_ But he just couldn't.   
  
Inside of his broken and battered heart that had love ripped out of it dozens of times, it could still give.   
  
And he still had so much love to give to Peter.   
  
_ Whether he was his or not. _ _   
_   
He managed to shove Peter inside of his large white bathtub. His long limbs stained the tub, the walls, and the floor blood red.    
  
Harry stood up from his kneeling position next to the tub. His breathing was uncontrollable as each worry filled breath shook his body. He usually ran his hands through his hair when he was stressed, but he stopped himself.   
  
He held back his screams as his hands were soaked in blood.  It began trailing down his hands and making a path down his arms. It was under his fingernails and between each of his fingers. 

  
His eyes made his way towards his clothes. What once was a simple grey tee shirt and sweatpants horrifyingly became a mixture of grey spots filled with red. His shirt was drenched with Peter's blood as it made his clothes stick to his skin.   
  
He began pacing back and forth in his bathroom as his warm tears started streaming down his eyes.    
_   
_ _ He couldn’t deal with whatever the fuck this was. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He didn’t want to. _ _   
_   
"H-Harry..." Peter whispered. He tried to adjust his position in the tub, but that resulted in him leaving bloody handprints on everything he touched. Small whimpers escaped his lips as he cried out in pain. 

 

Harry whipped around and kneeled down to the bathtub. It hurt his heart to see Peter in pain. He still loved him with everything he had left, even though he was already taken by another.

  
"D-Don't... Don't move..." Harry whispered. His hands were shaking as he tried to think of something to take Peter's pain away, anything.    
  
He remembered the first aid kit he used to have for when Peter came home as his endeavors as Spider-Man.    
  
_ Thank god he didn't throw that into his fireplace too. _ _   
_ _   
_ He reached over towards the cabinets of the sink to get the small black bag filled with dozens of medical supplies. He dragged it across the floor, searching frantically for the painkillers.   
  
He popped open the cap and placed the gum ball sized snow white pills into his hand.   
  
He turned his attention towards Peter, but his brown eyes were closed and he was still.   
  
_ Too still. _ _   
_   
"No... no..." Harry whispered. He used one of his hands to grip the side of his face, trying to wake him up. He couldn't lose him, not here or ever. Peter was too young to die, he had too much to live for. And Harry didn't think that he could handle it either, all he wanted was for him to be happy. Even if it wasn't with him, he wanted him alive.   
  
"Peter... please..." He whispered. He held his bloodied hand in his. It was painful for Harry to hold him like this again, it was hard. It brought back all of the memories he wanted to forget. All of the times they held hands while kissing or walking through the park flooded his mind. Or to the time when they held hands for the first time. When Harry was broken, lost, alone, and scared in the forest. Peter helped him up and didn't let go until he knew that Harry would be alright.   
  
Harry was praying to whoever was listening that this wouldn't be the last time they held hands.   
  
That this bloodied memory of Peter wouldn't be the final moment they shared together.   
  
_ I ~~f anyone should die, Harry felt like it should be him.~~    _ _   
_   
"P-Pete..." Harry begged. His hand was pressed lightly on the web slinger's cheek, shaking with the smallest amount of force. "W-Wake up... please..."   
  
It was silent between them for a while.   
  
Until Harry heard a groan of pain escape Peter's lips along with  _ more _ incoherent mumbling.   
  
The weight of everything Harry had buried inside of him came off of his chest. He felt like he could finally breathe again. When they were together, Peter was the only thing that kept him strong, he was the only one that made him feel like he was worth something.    
  
Even though Peter was now with Gwen, the feeling of the tiny self confidence still remained inside of Harry. Peter always told him to be the best of himself. And he listened. But sometimes, it was hard to muster out the little self esteem he had to get his through the day.

 

Harry got the pills and shoved them into Peter's mouth. The web slingers brown eyes stared up at him in disbelief. He tried to lift his hand to remove the pills from his mouth, but Harry stopped him.   
  
~~_ Harry would never get tired of holding Peter's hand.  _ ~~   
  
"Trust me..." He said. "They will make the pain go away... I promise."   
  
Peter's weak eyes narrowed before he gave in. With a big gulp, he swallowed the pills dry. He let out a small cough in response that shook his entire body.   
  
Harry's breathing soon went back under control. He knew that he needed to patch Peter up and clean up all of his blood.   
  
"Okay..." He whispered to himself. "I can do this..."   
  
He internally prepared himself as he slowly started peeling away at the remains of the Spider-Man suit. He wanted to turn away when he watched Peter wince in pain with any amount of pressure he laid on his skin. All he hoped was that the medication would have their effect already. 

 

"It's okay..." Harry whispered. "You're okay."    
  
Eventually, Peter's naked and bloodied body remained in the bathtub. The old shred of the Spider-Man suit was in a bloody pile on the floor, staining the rug red.

 

He turned his attention towards Peter and examined his godly body.   
  
Even from all of the blood, bruises, and cuts, it was still amazing in every way.   
  
Harry practically memorized every detail of it, even after five years.   
  
_ He immediately closed his eyes and shook his head. _

_   
_ _ Peter was married to Gwen. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He didn't belong to him anymore. _ _   
_   
The deep waves of regret and sadness that washed over in his chest dragged him out of his thoughts. He brought his mind back to the main objective.   
  
_ Making sure that Peter was okay. _ _   
_   
Harry grabbed one of the wash cloths and turned on the the shower. The warm water sprayed out of the showerhead as it landed on Peter's skin, washing the blood into the drain. He was grateful when he didn't see him wince at the pressure. The medication must've taken their full effect already. 

  
He knew that Peter was a jerk. He cheated on him and then invited him to his soon to be wedding. Did he regret his decision of taking Peter in? 

 

Kind of.

 

_ Where the fuck was Gwen? _

 

But would Harry do this again?

 

Probably.

 

Even after everything that has happened, he never did stop loving him. How could he?

 

If Peter wasn't in his life, Harry didn't even know what he would've became. If he didn't escape to his house in the middle of the night, he didn't know what  _ more _ damage his father would have inflicted on his body.

 

He still had some scars on his face from the time his dad threw a glass at him when he was six. They were on the upper left corner of his face. He grew his bangs out on the left side to hide them. The scars weren't too big, but whenever he stared at them in the mirror, they brought memories back that Harry just wanted to forget.   
  
The water ran down Peter's skin, mixing with the blood as it went into the drain. Harry used the washcloth in his hands as he started scrubbing Peter's body as gently as possible. Watching out for all of the cuts and the bruises. The pain medication could only do so much.    
  
"Are you still with me?" Harry asked, wiping some of the blood off of Peter's face.   
  
"No..." Peter mumbled out. "Yes... I.. don’t..." His eyes closed as his head drooped downwards.   
  
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as it sent shockwaves of fear through his body. He lifted Peter's head to face his. "I need you to stay awake for me..." He whispered.   
  
"Open your eyes..." He whispered. "Come on... Please Peter..."   
  
"I need you to keep your eyes open, just for a little while longer... can you do that?"   
  
The brunette opened his eyes the slightest and stared upwards at Harry. Shakily, he lifted one of his hands and held the side of his face. "Har..." He croaked out. "I.."   
  
Harry held onto one of Peter's arm. It felt nice to be held by him again. It was nice to feel like he actually mattered after  _ so long. _

  
"Hey..." The brunette continued. "Hi...I... l-love you..."    
  
_ 'No... you don't.' _ _   
_   
Harry shook his head as the tears from his eyes fell. It took every ounce of self control not to say those three words back to him. Because he knew that if he did, he would fall harder into his clutches. He was barely making it out now and if went back into that deep hole of empty promises…

 

His life would only get worse.

  
"Just stay awake... keep your eyes open..."   
  
"Please... for me." He begged. “For me…”   
  
∞   
  
It took a while, but Harry managed to stitch all of Peter's wounds with the supplies from the kit. He was terrified of causing an more harm to his battered body so he took his time to make sure that all of his cuts were threaded as best as he could. Peter told him that he had always had delicate and steady hands. That's why his artwork was so amazing.   
  
Harry stopped believing him a while ago.   
  
After all of Peter's wounds were stitched up, Harry cleaned all of them with rubbing alcohol and wrapped them all in a thick white bandage. 

  
"Can you stand?" Harry asked.    
  
The brunette shifted some his limbs trying to adjust his position. Harry let him rest his arm on his shoulder as he struggled to stand up. He held onto Peter's waist tightly as he guided him out of their bathroom.

  
They slowly made their way towards their bedroom, Harry didn't want Peter to accidentally trip on anything or to move too fast that he accidentally ripped one of his stitches. It took Harry a couple of hours to finish them and at this point he was exhausted, he could barely keep his eyes open. 

  
Harry sat Peter down on their bed gently, double checking to make sure the bandages on his abdomen did not rip or burst.

 

He wiped Peter's slightly dampened hair out of his eyes. He remembered whenever Peter would do that to him, all those years ago. On the lazy sunday mornings when he would wake up to Peter laying small kisses on his cheeks, or when the brunette would run his hands through his hair, reminding how much he loved him.   
  
_ 'Stop.' _ _   
_   
"I'm going to get you some clothes." Harry whispered.

 

As soon as he tried to walk away from Peter, his arm was gripped with a weak amount of force. He turned around and made eye contact with brown and hazy doe eyes.   
  
"D-Don't...go.." The brunette murmured. "P-Please..."   
  
Peter's fractured voice broke Harry's heart. It was so vulnerable and weak, just like a lost child’s.   
  
Harry gripped the sides of Peter's face, laying a reassuring kiss on his forehead. He then placed their heads together and whispered softly, "I'll be right back... I promise. you'll be okay."   
  
Harry's pale hands slid off of Peter's face as he made his way towards the closet. He picked out a pair of boxers, a pair of sweatpants, and a sleeping shirt.   
  
He rushed back into his bedroom and witnessed Peter in a way he had never seen him before. He had always been so confident and brave. But now, it looked like he was cowering. 

 

It felt unusual remembering all the times when Peter was taking care of him. He had been the more independent and stronger one in their relationship. Now, it was Harry that was taking care of Peter.

 

_ Instead of him getting saved by Peter, Peter was being saved by him. _

 

He helped Peter's legs upwards on the bed so he was in a lying position. Carefully, he slid on the boxers and then the sweatpants. After, he made the brunette raise his hands over his head so he could slip the sleeping shirt onto his body.   
  
The easiest part was tucking Peter under the thick comforter that was on their bed. He made sure that every inch of his  ~~_ boyfriend’s _ ~~  skin was covered just in case he got cold. In all honesty, he didn’t even know if that was possible. Peter was  _ always _ warm. 

 

Harry stood by the bedside and brushed Peter's hair out of his eyes again. Just so he could take one last look and appreciate this moment. 

 

_ The time when Peter actually needed him. _

 

Deep down, Harry always felt like he was emotionally draining him through their entire relationship. He was a parasite that was sucking the happiness out of Peter’s life. Maybe that's why he left him for Gwen.   
  
She was smart, independent, and perfect.   
_   
_ And Harry felt like he was just... Harry. _   
_ _   
_ _ Worthless _

 

_ Useless _ _   
_ _   
_ _   
_ _ Weak _ _   
_ _   
_ _ And pathetic _   
  
He let out a deep sigh as he turned from Peter, lifting himself up from the bed. He knew that if it was better off if he slept on the couch tonight. It wouldn't be fair to Gwen if he slept on the same bed as her soon to be husband. It would hurt to feel betrayed by someone she once called her friend.   
  
He knew from experience.   
  
_ "W-Wait... no... please... I'm s-sorry I hurt you... i'm so sorry... you must... you must...hate me..." _ _   
_   
  
Harry turned around to Peter's mumbling. He watched him trying to change his position so he could follow Harry's small footsteps out the door.   
  
He rushed back to the bed, helping Peter’s bandaged body back into it. He didn't want him to find a way to hurt himself even more. "Peter... stay in the bed, Pleas-"   
  
"I'm so sorry... I hurt you…” Peter said, tears already falling down his cheeks. “ I... I'm a monster... I-"   
  
"No." Harry interrupted him. He hated it when Peter cried. It made him want to cry too because when he did shed tears, it would only be because of something that was killing him inside.

 

He usually kept all of his emotions bottled up inside. The only time when he had seen it happen was when his uncle died years ago. "Don't cry... please..."   
  
"I can't..." He whispered. "I never… deserved you... and I m-m-messed it all up..."   
  
"You mean… so so much to me... I'm sorry..."   
  
"Please don't… leave me… I can't lose you too."   
  
Harry wiped the tears away from Peter's face and gave him a saddened smile. "Okay." He whispered.    
  
"I'll stay."   
  
Harry took off his bloodied shirt and lied next to Peter, letting his body rest under his arm.   
  
_ He knew that the feeling wasn't real, Peter didn't belong to him anymore. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ But it was nice to pretend. _ _   
_   
"I'm sorry." The brunette whispered, gently letting his fingers dance through the strands of Harry’s hair.

  
Blue eyes fluttered shut as Harry used Peter's heart as a steady lullaby to fall asleep to. 

 

"I forgive you, Peter." He admitted.   
  
The brunette whispered, "I love you..." 

 

"I-" Harry began, but he cut himself off.

 

_ “No.’ _   
  
"Get some rest, Pete." He soothed. "I'll be right here when you wake."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at like 3 AM.... I know this story is kinda bad lol


End file.
